Belonging
by MorbidMandy
Summary: A Tori-centric two-shot. But treat it as a one-shot, because second part will not happen for a while. Post-Reckoning. Everyone has someone-Chloe, Derek, Simon... But Tori's all alone. At least, she thinks she is...


**Hi! Soo, I hope you like this. It's short for a one-shot (I think), but I like it.**

**It's a Tori-centric fic, because I think she is THE most fun to write. I absolutely love her acidic personality, and I always wondered why she was the way she was.**

**ALSO: did they ever mention Tori's sisters name? The blonde cheerleader one? Cause I have another idea that would involve some heavy flash-backing, and I don't want to name her if she already has a name.**

**Okay, enjoy!**

The day started as normally, or perhaps _abnormally_ as most recent days of Victoria Enright's days had started.

She woke up, staring at the nondescript beige ceiling of the nondescript motel. She thought about the night before as she dragged her fingers lightly over the cheap (polyester) floral bedspread.

She'd been… bored? No, it was no use lying to herself. She'd been lonely. So she'd sought out Chloe's company. Even though Miss Perky made her want to puke 90% of the time, she was company…

**TPOV**

I'd come upon her and wolf-boy making out in his room.

She looked up at me over his shoulder, frowning for a split second, before smiling brightly at me.

"Hi, Tori!" She said. Ugh. Miss Perky indeed.

"What do you want?" growled Derek, turning to look at me.

For a very brief moment I considered tearing Chloe away from him. Telling her I needed someone to talk to. Telling her I needed companionship.

Then she flashed a look down at Derek, and her eyes lit up. She wanted to stay. And I guess I could take a lesson from Chloe-be selfless.

"Nothing. Just-looking for Simon." I lied, turning neatly on my heel and walking out.

To make my story seem more credible (should they ask), I _did _look for Simon. I found him sitting outside the motel, on a bench.

"Hey." I said, and his head snapped up. I saw his face brighten at the sound of a voice, then dull when he saw it was me.

"Hey, Tori." His voice was depressed. I mean, I knew we weren't BFF's or anything, but I'd thought we were at least friends.

"What are you working on?" I asked, sitting beside him.

"A graphic novel of our adventures." He said, sketching.

I peered over. He was doing a scene were Chloe and I were running from some guy with a gun.

Of course, he had taken some artistic license.

Such as making Chloe a lot more (ahem) _gifted _up top, lengthening her hair, and basically making her look like such an angel. He'd put so much detail in each part of her, from her hair flying behind her, her lips parted slightly. She was gorgeous.

Me? He'd drawn me… well, he'd barely drawn me. He'd made me look like part of the backround. My hair-which was _very_ nice, short and curly, he'd made look like a frizzy mop. My face was a mask of terror, but unlike Chloe's, it wasn't a _beautiful _mask of terror. It was a freaky-looking mask of terror.

Was that how he really saw me?

"That's really good, Simon." I said, barely moving my lips.

"Uh, thanks…" he said, shifting uncomfortably. For a moment I was confused, lightly sniffing my hair and my body. I'd showered this morning-I smelled _fine_. Then it hit me.

He still thought I liked him.

I didn't. I never _really_ had. I mean, yeah, I liked him. But not REALLY liked. He was nice, and sweet, and protective. I never had a guy friend, only boyfriends. So whenever a guy showed the slightest bit of interest in me, I had to go ahead and assume that he was in love with me.

I tilted my head to the side, thinking back on how obsessively I'd pursued him. He'd been _mine_. I'd claimed him, just like I claimed things at home. At the mall, I'd claim boots and jeans, and even guys spotted across the mall. Sometimes I didn't like the things (or people) I claimed. I just wanted to know that they were _mine_. That no one else could have them.

Simon sent a nervous glance my way, scooting over even more, so that I was sitting on one extreme edge of the (relatively large) bench, and he was on the other.

I stood quickly, making Simon nearly fall off of the edge of the bench. That's right. He'd scooted over _so_ much that he was nearly on the ground.

"I knew I was a bitch, but _wow_. I never thought you hated me that much." I said, before turning and stalking off.

He didn't even try to stop me.

I made my way up to my room (a 'treat' for me-I got my own room. Derek shared with Simon, Chloe shared with her aunt, and Mr. Bae got his own too), and slammed myself on the bed.

Had I _really_ become this pathetic? I mean, I'd never been Miss Popularity. But I'd had _friends_. And _boyfriends_. On Valentines Day I got fifty cards. Thirty from friends, and TWENTY from admirers. People _liked_ me.

Back then I was slightly acidic, super-smart, sarcastic Tori. Back then my biggest worry was if my sister would steal my makeup, or if I would get into this software design camp…

I sat up, wiping away the tears I hadn't even noticed I was shedding, and looked in the mirror opposite the bed.

Despite the fact that my eyes looked like I'd used red eyeliner on them, I didn't think I looked too bad. My wavy/somewhat curly black hair was growing out-it was nearly to my shoulders now. Longer hair softened my face, as did the bangs I'd given myself last week. Cutting my own hair was _not _ a process I planned on repeating, but it hadn't been so bad.

My face was pretty enough, smooth and pale, a perfect oval. My eyes flashed with a hint of recognition as a smile tugged at my lips.

I looked like my brother.

What? Was I not supposed to know that? Chloe thinks she's so freaking special, figuring that out. I heard Dr. Davidoff talking about it when they'd had us. That my father was a sorcerer. And when I'd mentioned it to Gwen that I'd had a crush on Simon…

Let's just say she wasn't too great at keeping secrets. She hadn't said it outright, but I wasn't an idiot.

It was actually pretty creepy-I'd had a crush on my brother. _Ew_. Almost as nauseating as realizing Derek was my step-brother.

I hadn't told anyone yet. That I knew about it. _Especially_ not Simon. He'd hate me for it. Plus, I wanted to see if Mr. Bae-my father-would tell Simon himself.

I sighed as I looked back down at the comforter. Brother or not, Simon couldn't _stand_ me. Couldn't even stand sitting on the same bench as me.

I ran my hands through my hair, scowling as my fingers caught on the ever-present tangles. How was it that I'd never questioned that I barely looked a thing like my mom or sister? They were blonde, blue eyed, angelic. Me? I was the witch… in every sense of the word.

Once again, I sighed. This was starting to become a habit. I reached forward, grabbing the handle of the hairbrush. Once, twice, I tugged in through my hair. At last I gave up, instead changing into lounge pants and a tank-top. It was nearly midnight-since we didn't do much of anything, we didn't have a bedtime.

For a while Mr. Bae and Lauren had tried to teach us math and history and the such, but they were both woefully unprepared. Every time they said something, someone was correcting them.

To everyone (or at least _my_) surprise, I remembered a lot of history. I recited all the reasons for WWI (the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria in Bolivia by Gavrilo Princip, who was coming out of a sandwich shop.). Yeah. Creepy. I always hated history, but apparently I'd retained a _scary_ amount.

At last they gave up, and tried to train us to use our powers.

Once again, woefully unprepared. I think that both Lauren and Mr. Bae were surprised at what they came home to. Metaphorically speaking.

Mr. Bae seemed to remember suave Simon and quiet Derek. Instead, he got perpetually moody Simon and yelling, overprotective, has-to-be-in-charge wolf-boy.

Lauren expected Chloe to be the same quivering pile of girlishness she dropped off at Lyle House. As _if_. Sure she was still happy and perky and sweet. But that girl was just as messed up as the rest of us. Our first night there, she woke up screaming about the bodies. Lauren tried to comfort her, but she wouldn't stop shaking until Derek came in, and I sat next to her until she fell asleep.

So, I thought as I brushed my teeth, I had it better and worse than everyone else. Better because there was no one there to look at me like I was a different person (even though I knew I was). Worse because there was no one. Anywhere. No one who cared about me.

And on that depressing thought, I slid the cheap plastic dollar-store headphones over my head, and fell asleep to the rousing lyrics of… random cheap CD band.

The next morning, I woke up feeling (guess what) depressed. I looked up at the ceiling. Beige. Boring. Depressing. I dragged my fingers across the cheesy floral bedspread. Depressing.

I sat up in bed, scowling at the sun that shone through the thin curtains.

Then I looked in the mirror, and groaned. Somehow, overnight, my hair had gotten even _worse_. I slammed back into bed, pulling a pillow over my head.

No use. I was up for good.

I swung my legs out of bed, and sent an angry glare at the alarm clock. 5:10. Admittedly, it was better than waking at 3 while on the run, but not by much.

I dressed quickly, pulling on faded straight-leg jeans and a plain red t-shirt. I dragged a brush through my riotous curls, before giving up and pulling it back in an elastic. Which alerted me to my next problem. My red, splotchy face.

I pulled out the concealer I'd bought at the dollar store (which now supplied most all of our things), and carefully applied it. In high school, I'd given _all_ of my friends makeovers. Now, I artfully applied the meager makeup to make me look not gorgeous, but just… normal.

At last I looked… good enough.

I slipped out of my room and over to the kitchenette in the main room. I poured a bowl of cereal, and sat alone at the tiny table. Alone. As always.

I heard some shuffling on the stairs, and looked up to see Simon coming downstairs. I stifled a smile. His hair was just as riotous as mine had been-sticking up every which way, and looking thoroughly rumpled.

He looked up and squinted at me, before pressing his lips together and walking over to the fridge. He too poured a bowl of cereal, and then he took a seat across from me. For a few long minutes we ate in silence.

"About… last night. I'm sorry, Tori. It's just… weird, because…" Simons words drifted off and his gaze returned to his food.

"Don't worry about it, Simon. I know I was a little… freakishly obsessed. I'm over you. I just… needed someone who was stable. You seemed the sanest." That was mostly true. I mean, excluding the fact that I had (HAVE) major abandonment issues.

He looked up at me and flashed a quick smile.

"… although I do have to ask _why_ you drew me so hideously in your comic." I said. Nope. I just _could not_ let it go.

"I-? I what?" he said, looking at me confusedly.

"Last night. You were working on your comic book. Chloe looked like an angel from heaven, and I looked like a sketch a kindergartener drew." I said, smiling ruefully and stirring my cereal.

"Last night? I… I wasn't finished! And it's a _graphic novel_." He said, frowning slightly and puling his sketchbook over from where he had apparently brought it down.

Sure enough, when he laid it down, it had changed.

I was drawn in detail now. My hair spun out behind me, each curl defined and made glossy. My eyes were angry, and blue sparks flew from my fingers. While Chloe may have looked like an angel, I looked like a _fallen_ angel-angry and beautiful.

Everything about me was perfect in the picture. I looked up at him, unconscious tears pricking at my eyes.

"Tori… I have to tell you… I found out something about… us, when I was at the… headquarters… I…" I interrupted him before he could stammer anymore.

"About my… parentage?" I asked, smiling bitterly at him.

"You-you know? That we're… siblings?" he whispered this last part, glancing around as if someone was going to leap out and be shocked.

"Yeah." I said, taking a bite of my now soggy cereal.

"And were you ever going to tell me?" he asked, sounding only mildly outraged.

"I didn't want to… look, Simon. No one here really likes me. I wasn't going to make it worse by insisting on forming bonds with people who don't like me."

He reached over and grabbed my hand, from where it had been nervously stirring my cereal into a multicolored slop.

"Everyone likes you Tori. Well, maybe not Derek, but I don't think he really likes _anyone_… except for Chloe. It's just hard to get to be friends with you, because you can be a bit of a…"

"Witch-bitch?" I asked, grinning at him.

"Well… yeah. But, I mean… you're my sister, Tori. We're always going to be linked. Whether we like it or not. But… I don't mind. I kind of like it. Having a sister." He blushed, pulling his hand back from where it had still held mine.

"I don't mind it either… having a brother. Having _you_ as a brother." I said, blushing too.

For a moment we sat there in (amiable) silence. We looked at each other. And burst out laughing. Now, I wasn't a vain girl, but I had spent my fair amount of time looking in a mirror. And right now? Except for the hair and the fact that it was a guy… I knew we had the same expression on our face. Lips pressed together, eyes wide, and eyebrows slightly scrunched together.

A door closing made us sober up, but not for long when we looked up to see Mr. Bae coming downstairs. When he saw us his face twisted into… lips pressed together. Eyes wide. Eyebrows slightly scrunched together.

We fell on the ground, howling with laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked Mr. Bae, smiling faintly-like there was a joke he didn't _quite_ get.

"Just-" Simon gasped.

"Seeing-" I gasped, giggling.

"The-"

"Familial-"

"Resemblance!" we finished together, laughing.

"You-you two know?" Mr. Bae asked, looking _beyond _shocked.

"Well… I knew first! But neither one of us knew the other one knew." I said, looking over and grinning broadly at Simon.

"And now we're finishing each others sentences!" Laughed Simon, leaning over to bump shoulders affectionately with Tori.

"So… you two are okay with this?" asked Mr. Bae.

"With us being related, yes." Said Simon, narrowing his eyes at his father. "With you not telling either of us for sixteen-almost-seventeen years? No."

And so we spent a good part of the next hour talking. And then everyone else came down. We explained it the best we could, but I don't think people got it.

Derek kept on looking at me like I grew another head, and Chloe alternated asking me and Simon how we felt.

Me? I felt fine. Great. Unbelievable. For so long I'd worried about being accepted-about being alone.

But now, I finally belonged.

**So? Did you like it? Pleaseee review! Right now, this is a one-shot. However, there is definite possibility that I'll add something to it.**

**AND how did I do with their relationship? I wanted to show a lighter side of Tori. But if I add another chapter, it'll be a more in-depth exploration of their relationship.**

**Um. So. Okay. I'm still working on that one-shot I said I was a few days ago (or whenever). THAT one's longer, and more situation-based than internal-struggle. And I write Internal-struggle a LOT better. But anyway.**

**Review please 3**


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